


Penumbra

by artoni



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Language, M/M, Mentions of other characters - Freeform, mild violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-22
Updated: 2016-07-22
Packaged: 2018-07-26 02:28:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,643
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7556527
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/artoni/pseuds/artoni
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"He finds the old soldier while providing Talon some cover. Reaper hardly cares about who the man is...[but] of all people it could be..."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Penumbra

**Author's Note:**

  * For [windsweptfic](https://archiveofourown.org/users/windsweptfic/gifts).
  * Translation into Italiano available: [Penombra](https://archiveofourown.org/works/10367004) by [lilized](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lilized/pseuds/lilized)



> based off a prompt which will be set at the bottom, due to spoilers  
> the spoiler is not that gabriel's a piece of shit we all knew that  
> originally posted draft on tumblr 7/20/16

He finds the old soldier while providing Talon some cover.

Reaper hardly cares about who the man is; he’s being paid as an enforcer for once as opposed to an infiltrator, and the lack of activity has made him restless. So he plays with the apparent vigilante for a while, shadow stepping just within and without of his range of vision, laughing as a pulse rifle’s shots go through so much smoke. Taunts and teasing, wearing away at the psyche, until finally he’s good and ready to go for the kill.

It’s good stress relief, if nothing else. But as metal claws raise to strike, he decides to see the face of his pitiful prey before he finishes him off, and then he freezes because of all people

_of all fucking people it could be_

Jack Morrison breathes shallowly underneath him, still but tense and with his expression bared in a _savage defiance_ that something within Reaper remembers very, very well. He hadn’t ever seen it often but when he did, he _knew_ shit was about to go down, and when he laughs again it’s choked because _god damn the memories_.

The soldier takes the opportunity to try and wrench himself free, and Reaper lets him. He’s not wholly sure how to feel himself, but he’s done his job; Talon has gotten their shipment, he’ll be paid well, and Jack…

He lets Jack go. 

* * *

He finds him again, later. Tells himself it’s just part of the game, of stretching it out and savoring it all, but Jack only growls quietly when he notices the smoke and otherwise ignores him. He’s sitting at a bench, tinkering with his visor, and Reaper decides to fuck with him a little more to make it more fun

and is thrown off-track when Jack outright calls him by his name.

 _Same old drama queen_ , the man grouses, not even looking up, and Reaper- _Gabriel_ is affronted, really. The two trade some barbs as Reyes sits on the desk, a morbid curiosity wondering where this is going to go, and apparently it’s just them needling back and forth for a while before Gabriel loses his temper and slams his claws down in to the table to snarl in Spanish.

Jack’s hand clenches on the visor for a moment, and then he snorts. _If you’re gonna say something, may as well say it so I know what you’re saying, pendejo._ One of the few words he ever knew and his accent is _still_ terrible, but all Gabe can do is snap a few more words before dissolving in to so much smoke, resolving that next time he’ll cut out his throat.

* * *

He doesn’t do it next time. Or the next. It’s an old familiarity, bickering and taunting and Jack never seems overly surprised at his presence. He’ll remark about the flair for drama and it being a good or a bad time, once in a while tell him to buzz off, but- he doesn’t seem surprised when Gabriel always comes back. Sometimes he comes just to see what he’s up to, because god damn it, sometimes he feels _bored_ and if Jack’s not going to humor him he’s at least going to humor _himself_ and fuck with the man in other ways.

Least the asshole deserves. He really should cut out his throat, he muses aloud one night, examining his claws. For all Jack did to him, leaving him to die and all that, and Jack…

He’s not looking at him, but he can hear the sharp intake of breath. He’s not sure why, it’s not the first time he’s commented on it, but maybe it’s because how rough the past couple of days have been, but- 

Reaper glances up as Jack - he’s never told him to call him anything else, even if he knows by now that the media calls him Soldier 76 but Jack’s always, _always_ ‘just a soldier’, the literal moodkiller he is - rubs at his face, looking more tired than Reyes can remember. He’s been on the run, a few bounty hunters hot on his tail, eager to take up the reward Talon’s posted…and man, he really does look like hell, doesn’t he?

 _God damn it, Reyes,_ Jack mumbles, _If you’re going to fucking do something, just do something already. I’m tired of you screwing around._

He sounds old. Looks old. Like he’s aged two decades in two years. Gabriel stares at him in a long moment, and then?

Then he wraiths away to see where those hunters have gotten to. At least _they’ll_ probably find him intimidating, and if not, there’s nothing in him keeping _them_ alive.

* * *

Gabriel Reyes doesn’t know why he keeps coming back to Jack. Maybe- all right, _maybe_ there’s a part of him that fucking _misses_ a few things, but his most vivid memories are of frustration. The asshole not realizing that things aren’t always as they are on the surface, that sometimes corruption goes deep - that sometimes you need more than a tactical visor to see how shit the world is getting. It’s on a downwards spiral, and at this point Reaper just wants to get by in a semi-comfortable manner; his mercenary work passes the time, since most comforts just…aren’t the same.

Hell, he can’t even get a good night’s rest anymore. And so he spends one night just sitting on the bed by Jack, watching him sleep with a pensive expression. The man wakes up briefly, notices him, stares for a long moment…then rolls over and closes his eyes, exposing his back seemingly without fear.

 _If you’re going to fucking do something, just do something already_ , Jack had said those weeks ago. Gabriel stays until the dawn rises, and when Jack begins to stir, he is gone.

* * *

One night he finds Jack sitting next to what looks like an old radio. The man doesn’t even acknowledge his presence, which is rude in itself, but the clouded expression stalls Gabriel from calling him out on it. He has his hands folded at his mouth, mask set on the table next to him. There’s a long few seconds of silence before Jack, visor hiding his eyes, speaks.

_Winston launched a Recall._

Fresh memories of that old ape cross his mind- and Reaper stubbornly shoves them back out. He’d been taken by surprise, trying to download that archive, and like hell he’s going to bring that up. Try again later, sure, but- this may change things. _A Recall?_ he asks instead, taking his usual position on the nearest flat surface without care if it’s actually made for that. This time it’s some sort of toolchest that looks as though it’s older than he is, rusted and barely mobile. It’ll do, he thinks, as he watches Jack, who…

Who takes off that visor to rub at his eyes, sighing heavily. _Yeah_ , the man confirms. _Moron’s trying to bring Overwatch back together._ There’s an undeniable fondness at the insult, and Gabriel can tell that Jack is a little lonely. He’s always been good at reading the man, even if he’s changed a bit; they’ve both changed, since the explosion. Sometimes he doesn’t even recognize Jack, especially when he’s in the heat of battle, growling and snarling like an animal. But other times…times like these…

It’s the same old Morrison, thinking about things he shouldn’t. _You really gonna come back from the dead?_ he drawls, leaning forwards a bit. _You’re doing so **good** , thought you were two steps from getting a comic book_.The banter comes easy between them at this point, less and less toxic, and Jack actually seems a little amused when he snorts and lowers his hands.

_Better that than a ghost story._

_Hey, those last longer than comics._

Sometimes it feels like _old_ times. When they weren’t necessarily at each throats, and instead back-to-back in the heat of the fray. Following each other in to hell, paving the way through omnic parts and god knew what else…maybe that’s why, when Jack gets to his feet with a sigh, Gabriel already knows the decision he’s made.

And god damn it, he’s made his own, hasn’t he? _Really should have killed you when I had the chance,_ he grumbles, and Jack only snorts before gathering his things.

* * *

He already knows Talon’s not going to hire him again. Doomfist was a pain in the ass enough that he’s out hunting for where Jack’s gotten to, finding him masked, of course. Reporting for duty like a good little soldier, and of course the base is ecstatic when they realize who he is

They’re not so ecstatic when smoke from a shadow coalesces in to a form. Winston, in particular, is immediately shouting for backup, slamming his hands down and looking like he’d outright lunge if not for the fact that the shadow Reaper had formed himself out of?

Was Jack’s own.

Jack is still, and Jack is silent as he turns his head, meeting the masked gaze of Reaper. They’re telling him to move, there’s a dozen guns trained on them and they’re all hesitating only because Jack is cutting off any decent shot with his own body, wide-eyed and staring and when he speaks his voice is so very small.

_You mean you can see him too?_

As the silence deafens them all, Reaper can only stand still in his own shock as Jack turns around, and for the first time, the _very first time why hadn’t he realized it before_ he’s always been the one to make contact and engage and he’d thought it’d been because Jack was just being a pain in the ass but no it’s not because of that it’s

for the very first time since the world came down around them both, Jack reaches out to him, and Gabriel, _damn himself_ , reaches back.

**Author's Note:**

> PROMPT FROM wantonlywindswept.tumblr.com;  
> "okay but like  
> where is the fic that’s mostly just jack and gabe snarking at each other post-OW, jack doing his loner vigilante thing and gabe occasionally popping in to check on him at whatever rundown shithole he’s currently holed up in, appearing in black smoke and black leather and all edgy becase it’s intimidating jack stop laughing  
> and when jack finally gets dragged into the new overwatch shenanigans he shows up at the base with gabe all dark-clad and grumpy at his shoulder and everyone just grabs their guns and stare at them and jack stares back and then he realizes they’re aiming at gabe  
> and he just freezes and his go wide and lost and vulnerable and he says -  
> you mean you can see him too?  
> because i need that fic  
> :D"


End file.
